庄伟杰，闽南人，旅澳诗人作家、评论家、书法家、文学博士。毕业于福建师范大学中文系，北京大学中文系访问学者，复旦大学博士后。1989年底赴澳洲留学并定居。现为华侨大学华文学院教授，暨南大学兼职研究员，并任国际华文出版社社长兼总编，中外散文诗学会副主席。曾获第十三届“冰心奖”理论贡献奖等多项文艺奖，作品及论文入选上百种版本，有诗作编入大学教材《海外华文文学读本》。至今出版专著有诗、文、论和书法等10多部，主编各种著作50多部。

Weijie Zhuang, originally from southern Fujian in China, is a poet, writer, critic, calligrapher and Phd of literature residing in Australia. He graduated from Fujian Normal University majoring in Chinese language and literature, and is the visiting scholar of the Beijing University. He obtained post-doctoral position in Fudan University. He is now the professor of Chinese Department of Huaqiao University, part-time researcher of Jinan University, president and editor-in-chief of The International Chinese Press, and president of Australia Chinese Poets Association. He won a number of literary awards, such as the Theory Contribution Award of the 13th Bingxin Prize. His works and papers are included in hundreds of editions. Some of his poems have been included in Overseas Chinese Literature Reader. He has published more than ten books of poems, essays and papers and has been the chief editor for more than 50 books.

买醉街头

Drunk in the Street

梦想张开翅膀
放飞  在城市上空
踮起脚尖  翘首
胸中之竹跟着拔节

一尾鱼的欲望
穿过城市的腹部
在灯火阑珊处  游荡
泛起一串流浪的水波

深夜  买醉街头
星光也醉
左一撇  右一捺
在归来的路上
           记忆
			

Dream spreads its wings
Flying in the sky above the city
Standing on tiptoe, I raise my head
The bamboo in my chest begins to grow 

The desire of a fish
Travels through the belly of the city
Lingering in the dim lights
Rolling up a string of wandering ripples

Late at night, I stand drunk on the street
The starlight is also drunk
One stroke left and one stroke right
Making my way home
            that cannot last long.
			

听茶

Listen to Tea

从茶中聆听天籁  你招摇的
语词  让我依稀读到某种
张扬着茶色芬芳的预言

像睡醒后拉开窗帘  浸染光的
强度触摸  之后安然静坐
一边轻掸衣尘  独自对话
一边用清泉  沏泡刚刚收藏的
记忆  茶汤里泛起微笑的光波
照亮  轮回的际遇

倾听时间流转的吟哦  一朵茶花
在连绵高地  如涟漪轻漾香气碎语
舒缓心空  盘旋化蝶翻飞的回声
			

The sound of heaven is in tea your erudite
words make me read vaguely a florid prophecy in liquid color

As if awoken I'd opened the curtains contaminated by a
strong push of light and then sat still
talking to myself dusting off my dress
using a clear spring to steep a pot of freshly collected memory
Ripples of smile are in the tea
Illuminating the wheel of samsara

Listen to time's roaming chant a tea flower
on mountain tops like rolling fragrant whispers
Soothing the empty heart the echo of swirling butterfly wings